Under the Rowan Tree
by clair-de-neptune
Summary: A collection of fluff prompts I've gotten from various people on tumblr, or just little fluffy drabbles. Yay for heart-melting cuteness! The ratings on these will vary, from general audiences to teen audiences. I'll indicate the rating in each individual chapter. [if you suggested the prompt to me, please let me know! I didn't save your usernames with the prompts :( ]
1. Berries

For the prompt:_Aurora finds many edible things in the forest and tries to feed them to Maleficent, with some unexpected results._

_Rated G._

* * *

"Godmother!" Aurora voice called from the brush. Maleficent knew she was coming; her keen hearing had picked up the sound of soft, light footsteps that distinctly belonged to the girl when she was farther off. Maleficent smiled inwardly when she saw Aurora tumble out of the foliage and into the more open field.

A soft chuckle escaped the faery's lips at the sight of broken twigs and small leaves caught in Aurora's golden hair. Her little beastie never failed to make a mess of herself. Shaking her head, she watched as Aurora bounded up to her, small basket in hand. "And what on _earth _could have made you so excited?" Maleficent asked teasingly.

Accepting the invitation of an unfurled wing, Aurora sat down next to Maleficent, legs crossed, and placed her basket down in the grass. She stuck her tongue out at the faery—_how positively and perfectly unladylike for the Queen of two kingdoms._ Maleficent only smirked at her and glanced at the basket, and discovered it was filled with an assortment of berries. An eyebrow rose.

"I know that even for a young lady like yourself, you have the appetite of a dragon," Maleficent observed, "but I don't think even _you _could finish all of those on your own." The corner of her mouth curled upwards with amusement. "I hope that, as the dragon you are, you have hoarded all of that fruit for good reason."

Aurora huffed and took a few berries into her palm. "I have, if you _must _know."

"Well, I do. You musn't keep a faery held in suspense for long."

"Or else what?"

Maleficent lifted one of her fingers, and golden magic swirled between them, and drifted towards a small, purple berry. It levitated in the air. Aurora narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Or else…" Maleficent made a pinching motion with her fingers, and the berry exploded, squirting dark juice on Aurora's dress. Some of the berries that rested in Aurora's hand tumbled onto the ground as Aurora gasped, looking down at her ruined clothes, and the faery chuckled again. How she loved playing these little games.

"That will leave a stain!" Aurora whined, but it was playful. Maleficent knew she had plenty of other dresses with much deeper mud stains (to her handmaidens' mortification, she heard), and this was nothing compared to the remains of her fine dresses reduced to soiled pieces of cloth. Maleficent voiced this, and it earned her a good-natured glare.

"I _had _intended to share," Aurora popped a berry into her mouth, "but a certain _faery _decided to be full of mischief today—"

"Oh, I wonder whoever _that _could be."

"It happens to be the same exact faery I planned to share these with, but I suppose _she's_ being too difficult to care."

Maleficent laughed, and she noticed Aurora smile warmly. "Alright, I give in." Her long fingers reached into the basket, but Aurora swatted them away. An eyebrow quirked up, and Aurora's gaze flickered with something impish.

"I'm only going to share if you let me feed them to you."

The faery's gaze turned hard. "Absolutely _not_." As much as Aurora's request surprised her, she was _not _going to let it show, and as inviting as that offer sounded, she was _not _going to let it happen.

Seemingly undeterred by this, Aurora picked up a yellow berry, pinched it delicately in between her small fingers, lifted it in the air, and held it there, waiting patiently for Maleficent to yield.

For a while, Maleficent didn't. And it wasn't easy—it was hard to deny her little beastie anything, especially when she was all tousled up with twigs and leaves in her hair, and blue eyes looked at her with just a _hint _of disappointment—

_Fine…_ Maleficent acquiesced to her beastie's wishes, leaned in, and carefully took the berry from Aurora's grasp with her teeth, careful to not let her tongue come in contact with her fingers. She wasn't quite sure what would happen if it did, and she wasn't sure if she was ready for it, either.

A victorious smile spread across Aurora's face, and Maleficent rolled her eyes as she swallowed. This continued for a while; Aurora would pick a particular berry from the basket and hold it up for Maleficent to take, and then she would eat one of her own, and repeat. Once (and _only_ once), Maleficent's tongue accidentally brushed against Aurora's fingers, and she could've sworn she saw Aurora shudder at the sensation.

It didn't matter, because now there were only a few berries left at the bottom of the basket. "Let's try this one," Aurora suggested, picking up an orange berry. She fed it to Maleficent, and then ate one herself. Immediately, her face screwed up at the taste.

Maleficent smirked. "Sour?"

Aurora nodded, and opened her mouth to say something, but it looked like she was struggling to. Maleficent peered at her with interest—and noticed that her little beastie's lips were swelling. At the sight of this, she laughed. "Oh, _dear_," she said, golden-green eyes twinkling with amusement. "It seems that a certain girl has an allergy to awën berries…"

"Ith's noht fhunneh!" Aurora tried to protest with puffy lips, but Maleficent couldn't take her seriously. She laughed again, the sound like velvet in the air, and did a little gesture with her fingers.

Three berries floated threateningly into the air. The look in Aurora's eyes was positively deadly.

"Don'th you _dahre—"_

_Pinch._


	2. What Great Wings You Have! (1)

**Rated T**. For the prompts:_ Maleficent saves a lost, beautiful girl in the Moors, and Aurora becomes jealous of her_ and _Possessive Aurora begins to develop _because I thought the two would meld together quite nicely.

**A/N:** The full title of this is _What Great Wings You Have, Faery__ Grandmother_ (unfortunately I couldn't fit it all in the chapter label box). This prompt is going to be split into two parts. Enjoy!

* * *

"L—lady Maleficent!"

The Protector of the Moors turned around slowly, despite the sprite's urgent tone. Many times, sprites' opinions on what was considered _alarming _were quite different than hers, and to be frank, she was growing tired of their _pestering_—

The little green sprite could hardly contain herself. "T-there's been a human spotted at the southern border of the Moors!"

_—Human?_ Now _this _was urgent; even though the two kingdoms were at peace, the presence of a human other than Aurora near the Moors set all the fae-folk on edge, especially Maleficent. "Southeast or southwest?" she snapped, but it was out of worry rather than annoyance. She couldn't waste her time searching the entire border.

"S-southeast," the sprite stuttered, then added, "b-but Balthazar said she was walking with a limp, so sh-she won't cause—"

"_She?_"Usually, the humans that intruded on the borders were male for a reason Maleficent couldn't quite figure out; to have a female human wandering around the Moors was strange. Aurora had once told her that female humans had much to do, especially in the rural areas on the farms—watching children, tending gardens and the like. Either way, a human (regardless of gender) on the boundaries of the Moorland was enough to make Maleficent wary.

The sprite nodded. "But Balthazar said she looked injured. S-she might need help."

Maleficent didn't reply. She had already unfurled her great wings and taken to the air, slicing through the sky with incredible speed, keen eyes combing through the trees as she searched for the intruder. _Balthazar said she was walking with a limp. _The faery slowed her flight and took a more careful look through the foliage now she had reached the southeastern part of the border. Hovering over the canopy, she growled as the sprawling branches blocked her view of the ground below, and sought out a place to land.

Finally, she spotted a clearing not too far from where she intended to look, and dove down sharply, closing her eyes and absorbing the wonderful exhilaration of the wind curling underneath her feathers and whistled in her ears. With practiced skill, she opened her wings gradually, bringing her to a graceful landing as her feet gently touched the ground.

Immediately, she surveyed the surrounding area. The clearing was empty save for herself, and she drew her wings inwards as she began to walk. Her guard had risen up again, and her gaze swept through the undergrowth, searching for any signs of disturbance.

The earth was still wet from a recent rainfall the night before. She knelt down and touched the forest floor with two fingers, and then lifted them. Small imprints were left in their stead.

Maleficent's gaze traveled a bit further ahead of her. Twigs lay snapped and slightly stuck in the dirt, followed by a few upturned leaves, which would've been plastered to the ground from the rain, and baked dry by the sun if they had been moved long ago.

_Someone has been here very recently._

That got her off to a decent, if somewhat small, start. She rose and, careful not to get the tips of her feathers dirty, she began following the trail, deftly picking her way through the forest with ease. As the undergrowth thinned, Maleficent detected footprints—the human wore only one shoe (there were toe marks in the dirt)—and that the right footprint was considerably deeper than the other.

_So she _does _have a limp. And she lost her sandal in the process…_

The rustling of branches caused her to snap her head to attention, sensitive ears twitching as they determined the direction of the sound. She instinctively turned to her right, and her eyes caught a glimpse of red cloth. Her wings flinched, wishing to press against her back for safety (the thought of a strange human seeing her wings still rattled her a bit), but she ignored it, instead stretching them out to make herself appear larger.

The shifting of leaves and foliage suddenly stopped, and the air stilled. "Make yourself known," Maleficent called, her voice steady and strong.

For a moment, the stranger she knew that hid behind the trees did not reply—she suspected out of fear—but she waited patiently, even though something inside of her wanted to interrogate the living daylights out of this human: _why are you here?; who gave you the right?; you know the Queen's decree, no human shall enter the Moors without permission; do you know that you are an intruder—_

"W-will you hurt me?"

The girl's voice was surprisingly small and fragile. Maleficent creased her brow at that, and responded with the same strength and careful neutrality: "I will not harm you unless you have intentions of doing the same to me."

"O-oh, I d-don't…excuse my stammering," the girl said meekly, "I don't wish to hurt you—" a quiet laugh, "—but even if I did, I doubt I could do much with this leg." The bushes rustled again, and Maleficent spread her wings a bit wider on impulse.

A muttered curse, what sounded like a stumble, then: "S-sorry, give me a moment…"

Maleficent studied the girl that emerged from the trees with hidden interest (and, surprisingly enough, a bit of concern). Her wings retracted when she finally saw the state of the human; dirt and leaves were caught in her dark hair; under her red cloak, her white dress was stained and torn from what looked like a struggle or a fight with a forest creature; and, most importantly, her legs were covered in claw marks and dry blood, accompanied by deep fang wounds on her left calf.

She had been attacked by something, no doubt about it, and as Maleficent's gaze swept over the girl a second time, she decided that she was no threat, and bore no malicious intentions, but that did not lower her guard. "What is your name?"

The girl, who looked to be no more than seventeen, lowered her gaze as red flushed her cheeks. "Lily," she murmured sheepishly, "but all of the adults at home call me Little Red."

How quaint. "Due to the cloak, I assume."

She nodded, and shifted uncomfortably on her right leg—Maleficent almost forgot that she had wounds. Taking a deep breath, the faery made a decision and strode towards Lily, offering her arm for support. The girl's eyes, which captured a bright green in their irises, shone with admiration and gratitude. "Thank you," she whispered and took the faery's arm, leaning on it heavily.

Maleficent pulled her wings as close to her back as possible to keep the girl from accidentally touching them. She gave no reply, and gestured to the wounds on her legs instead. "Tell me how it happened."

It wasn't a suggestion. Little Red sighed a bit out of embarrassment. "I was on my way to my grandmother's house," she began. "We live a bit west of there, not too far away from the Moors, and I usually take trips every now and then, but they've grown frequent since she's been sicker lately." Maleficent carefully guided her over a bulging tree root. "Anyway, the regular road to her cottage is long. It takes me half the day to walk there, and half the day to walk back."

Maleficent furrowed her brow. They lived on a farm, her family should have horses. "Don't you go on horseback?"

Lily shook her head, wincing a bit as she tripped over a branch. "No, Papa uses the horses for plowing during the day. We only have two, so I have to go on foot."

Hmm. "Continue."

Little Red's cheeks flushed a bit more. "And, well, all that walking nearly every day is a bit much, so I began looking for a shortcut. I figured I could just go through the corner of the Moors instead of all the way around it—"

Maleficent's tone hardened. "But humans are forbidden in the Moors, unless the Queen gives permission."

Lily's gaze fell to the forest floor. "I know. It was wrong of me." She paused. "I guess I reaped what I sowed, because I quickly became lost. I tried turning around, but I discovered I couldn't figure out what direction I'd come from." Her voice quavered. "And then, I felt like something was following me, and suddenly I was jumped by a large creature—it was a wolf, I think—but everything happened in a blur. I beat at it with my fists—"

"You do not carry a weapon?"

She moved her cloak from over her hip, revealing a small dagger. Maleficent's heart stopped, her throat tightened, and she nearly jerked herself away at the sight of it—but Lily seemed to detect her distress, and began stammering apologies. "N-n-no, it's not iron, and I-I won't use it, I promise." However, Maleficent still remained tense, and stared at the knife on the girl's hip as if it were Stefan himself.

Little Red unsheathed it, causing Maleficent to flinch, and laid it carefully out across both her palms for the faery to see. Maleficent glared at it suspiciously, but was surprised to find the girl told the truth; it wasn't iron, it was bronze. If Maleficent liked knives, she would have found it to be of rather beautiful construction, but she didn't, and tightened her lips into a scowl.

"Most people use daggers as a tool, and not for violence," Little Red explained. "When I'm helping Papa on the farm, we use our knives to cut rope and string, or to break apart small branches as tinder for fire. Sometimes, we even use them in games—"

"_Games?_" How on _earth _could something sharp and dangerous like _that _ever be used for a _game?_

Lily seemed amused by Maleficent's disbelief, and a giggle rose from her chest. "Yes, games. We'll mark a big, flat piece of wood with rings, and make a target. The smaller the ring, the more points its worth. You throw your dagger, and you aim for the tiniest circle in the center—that one's worth the most." When she noticed the still ever-suspicious expression on the faery's face, she laughed and sheathed the dagger. "We make sure the small children aren't around, and make sure everyone stands well out of the way as each person makes their throw." A small smile spread across her face. "Humans _are _capable of demonstrating safety, believe it or not."

The faery huffed. It sounded exactly the opposite to her, much less _fun._ "Just continue with your story—we're almost there."

The dark-haired girl frowned. "Right. I tried beating at it with my fists at first—I completely forgotten about my dagger in my panic. And it clawed and bit and scratched…I've never been so scared in my life." With her free hand, she fiddled with her red cloak nervously. "And then I remembered I had my knife, but I didn't want to hurt it—"

_My, this human is certainly perplexing._ "You didn't want to hurt it, even though it was attacking you?"

"—no. Mama says that every animal has a specific purpose, and if you hurt them or kill them, it upsets the balance. Besides," her voice fell quiet, "I had already invaded its space. I felt guilty."

_Interesting._ "So what did you do?"

"I took out my dagger, but I used the pommel instead of the blade and hit it right behind the ear." She tapped the corresponding location behind her own ear. "He got disoriented, and that gave me time to run away. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to run for long." Lily gestured to the puncture wounds as an explanation. "Then you found me. For that, I'm grateful." Another soft laugh floated in the air. "I was afraid I was beginning to lose too much blood, because I'm pretty sure I hallucinated trees moving!"

The faery couldn't help but smile at Lily's innocence_. That was no hallucination_.

"Where are you taking me?"

Maleficent was surprised at how long it took the girl to ask that question; she had been anticipating it for their entire walk. "Why," she said as if it was blatantly obvious, "to see the Queen, of course."


	3. What Great Wings You Have! (2)

It didn't take long for the news to reach Aurora—it spread rapidly throughout the community of the fae-folk, the message carried by wings and creatures both great and small. There was a human, a _female _human, lost in the southeastern portion of the Moors, and Maleficent had gone to search.

"_Repr Maleficent crii rnf?_" _Is Maleficent on her way back? _Aurora asked Ephit, one of the treant border guards that had entered the heart of the Moors.

His voice rumbled in confirmation. _"__Traä diir aok Balthazar ra un nmf frh." __The trees have told Balthazar and me of return._

_"Crua fari?" With the human?_

_ "Unnnr." I do not know. _Moss and dirt sprinkled onto the ground as Ephit took a deep breath, the gnarled roots and branches of his chest cracking and shifting. _"Traä sra spre."_ _Trees talk like they grow. "Rirë." Slowly._

Aurora smiled and nodded in understanding. _"Dokathu, Ephit." Thank you, Ephit._ With a stiff bow (trees do not bend easily), the treant sentry took his leave back to resume his normal patrol. As soon as they saw the Queen's attention was unoccupied, the residents of the Moors chattered and chirruped happily in their many different tongues, hands both small and large (some covered in various species of fungi) tugged and grasped the bottom of her simple blue robes. She laughed at their antics and talked with warm politeness, effortlessly switching between several different languages and conversations at once; however, something distracted her from entirely engaging in the fae-folk.

Worry. Her gaze drifted back to the thick forest, and the questions began to seep into her thoughts: _Is this human harmful? Will Maleficent be bringing her back? Why would a human be in the Moors if they know it is forbidden? _Her brow creased. _I don't think I've allowed anyone into the Moors yet. Did I allow someone permission, and forget? _Her teeth found the inside of her lower lip, and she chewed on it nervously.

_I certainly hope not._

Aurora was pulled out of her thoughts as the fae-folk abruptly erupted into a fit of excited uneasiness, and she immediately searched for the dark faery that would soothe her sudden tension.

A familiar voice drifted from the trees. "Hello, Ephit, I request the presence of the Queen. Do you know where she is?"

Aurora took a deep breath. Maleficent was back, and that relieved her beyond measure—but at the same time, she knew that the Protector only spoke of her in such a manner when there were strangers around. _So she _did _bring the girl back with her._ But for what reason? Couldn't she have simply let the human off with a warning, and sent her off back to the kingdom? She frowned. What if this girl had done something wrong? Something to threaten the Moors? What if she needed to be punished? Aurora pursed her lips at the thought. _I've never had to do that before. I do not want today, or any day for that matter, to mark as the first time I've needed to do it._

Her attention was drawn to the unusual _quietness _of the Moors—the faery denizens stilled (some still clutching to her robes), the birds and the bugs halted their songs—even the air wyrms that floated high above their heads ceased their wind-like cries. Eyes of every possible shape, size, and color, both human and non-human, shifted their gazes onto the red-cloaked young lady that rested heavily on Maleficent's arm.

Each owner of every gaze that fell upon the human did not move a single muscle. They waited in suspense for Aurora's reaction that would indicate whether they could trust the girl in the red cloak, but Aurora was in internal shock at the sight of the state of the dark-haired girl—her white dress, soiled and tattered and torn; her face, scraped and weary and pale (almost _too _pale); and, most alarmingly, her legs, which were caked in dry blood from multiple scratch and puncture wounds.

Aurora glanced at Maleficent, and she noticed that out of all the fae-folk, only the dark faery's multicolored gaze was trained on her instead of the girl. She smiled with her eyes to the Guardian, and then approached the girl, who appeared to be only a few years her junior, with calmness and reassurance.

If Maleficent could trust her, so could she.

"M-my Queen!" the girl stammered as she attempted to bow, but injured legs betrayed her and she lost her balance, nearly toppling on her instead. A strong arm reached out to hold her steady, and Maleficent assisted the stranger back to her feet.

"Please," Aurora said gently, "I appreciate your effort, but you need healing." At the Queen's words, the residents of the Moors exhaled a sigh of relief, and continued about their normal business (not without curiously looking and occasionally following the stranger in the red cloak, of course). She motioned for Maleficent to follow her, and as certain faeries flitted by, she would ask small things of them: _gather some braë herbs, if you could. On your way to the river, please ask the sprites to bring a few bowls of water—yes, leaf-fulls are fine as well, thank you kindly. Can you perhaps collect some rubten root? Right, it grows just by the little cliffs—many thanks._

The faeries happily assembled everything that Aurora needed for a pulp (besides, Aurora hardly asked for anything at all anyways, and they were more than glad to give back to her), and they entered a quieter grove. On the walk there, the red-cloaked girl introduced herself as Lily (also known as Little Red), and retold her story to the Queen. She apologized profusely for intruding on the borders of the Moorland, stating that it was wrong of her to just "amble through" without her Queen's permission. Aurora forgave her, but said that it was up to Maleficent to decide whether she was allowed to continue to enter and exit through it.

Lily was confused by this. "But you are the Queen, haven't you the right to do whatever you choose?"

Aurora nodded. "I do, but that right does not override my respect for the Moorland and its Protector." _My _Protector, Aurora almost added instinctively. She had to bite her tongue from saying it.

When Little Red looked to Maleficent for her answer, the dark faery only shook her head. "I'll have to think about it," she murmured. "Come; let us dress your wounds."

Maleficent eased Lily into a sitting position against a tree, and she began to prepare the pulp on a nearby boulder, crushing certain ingredients before mixing them with the water and then adding a few more. Aurora watched with interest (she must ask Maleficent to teach her how to make this one day)—well, until she caught a glimpse of the way Lily was looking at the faery.

_That_, Aurora thought as she resisted the urge to glare at the girl, _is _completely_ and _utterly_ unacceptable._

Lily's emerald gaze combed over Maleficent's form not once, not twice, but _three times_. _Three times too many, _Aurora mentally growled, _if I knew she was this _shameless_, I would've _made_ her bow to me earlier—_

"Aurora." Maleficent held a halved portion of the completed pulp up to her, multicolored irises twinkling with the slightest hint of interest. "You take one leg, and I'll get the other."

She took the pulp into her palm. "Okay." _No, not okay. Definitely not okay. Most-abso-bloody-lutely _not _okay. Maleficent would be _touching _this girl, and God knows what Lily will do—_

"Mmm."

Both the Queen and the faery stopped their work to find the source of the quiet moan, and Maleficent looked at Little Red with total neutrality. "Is something wrong?" she asked carefully.

"No, no, I'm fine." Lily's lips twitched as she tried to suppress her smile. "It's just—the medicine, it feels nice. Cool against the wounds."

Aurora couldn't help but narrow her eyes at the flushed-and-obviously-not-cooled-down cheeks of Little Red. _Sure it does. Or do you like the Protector's touch instead? _Mentally, she sneered. _My Protector._

Her eyes met Maleficent's, which remained steady and unreadable. "Aurora," the faery said firmly but gently, "the bite injury is deep. I'm going to have to use a little of my magic to make sure the muscle tissue doesn't scar. It'll prevent her from walking if it does."

Maleficent was simply confirming with Aurora that this was okay, but all Aurora could think of at the moment was _forget it, let her muscles scar the wrong way so that she might not be able to walk back here again to undress you with her eyes. _Her gaze flicked to Lily's—which was currently distracted by Maleficent's long column of a throat. _Green is the color of envy. I'll let her stay jealous, because I've kissed that throat she's ogling a thousand times, and marked it as mine…a thousand times._ She restrained a smirk from forming on her face. _And I've heard the lovely sounds that come out of that throat _more _than a thousand times, too._

The dark faery raised a brow just barely at Aurora when she did not respond immediately. Finally, the Queen managed to speak. "Yes…alright."

_Or maybe I'll let Maleficent heal her so she can get a head start in running out of the Moors before I send Balthazar and Ephit to hunt her down. I'm the Queen, and I have the right to do whatever I wish…she said it herself._

A soft, tinkling sound startled her out of her brooding, and she blinked. A swirl of golden magic had drifted right past her ear before dissipating into the air, and Aurora knew that Maleficent had done it on purpose to get her attention. She tried not to frown as she scolded herself for allowing her thoughts to take such an overprotective turn. _I already know that Maleficent belongs to me. Why am I acting like this?_

An overenthusiastic gasp reminded her why. She fought with all her might to _not _clamp Lily's mouth shut; Aurora knew she was feeling the sensation of magic, but _that _sound was wholly unnecessary—she settled for gritting her teeth together instead.

"There." Maleficent let her fingers fall and the magic evaporated. Aurora almost exhaled with relief. _Thank God _that's _over. _They rose, and the faery offered a hand to help the girl up. The Queen growled as Lily took Maleficent's hand, and quickly covered it with a fake cough. _To think that I thought this girl _pleasant_ at first, _Aurora grimaced inwardly, _and now she has her greedy little hands on—_

Lily drew her lips to the back of the faery's hand and kissed it. "Thank you, Lady Protector. If only the humans had such a talented healer like you—"

_Oh._

_ Hell._

_ No._

This "Little Red" had overstepped the boundaries of the Moors, and now she dared to overstep the boundary of Maleficent's willingness to _assist _her, kissing the back of her hand like some prince-suitor? _Unacceptable!_

She strode (if not stormed) over to where the two stood and structured her posture as tall and intimidating as she could. Without any attempt to sneakily hide it, she snaked her arm around Maleficent's waist and drew her close, the bottled up restraint threatening to boil over.

And when she saw a glint of _shock _of all things in Lily's envious eyes, as if she was _offended _that Aurora interrupted her advances, the restraint did, in fact, boil over.

Aurora smiled sweetly, but her gaze was hard as iron. "Lily, I daresay you appear to be…" she paused in fake consideration, her gaze falling on the girl's flushed cheeks, "…a _little red._ After all that cooling medicine, what _ever_ could be making you so hot?"

Lily dropped the faery's hand and submitted to Aurora's look of pure death. "I—nothing. Nothing at all."

"Good," she chirped happily, "because if it wasn't 'nothing', we would've had to dunk you in the river to cool you off again."

Little Red's green eyes widened, and Aurora laughed. "Oh, I'm just teasing." _No I'm not._ "Shall we show her to the border now that she is well, Maleficent?"

The faery, who had remained completely silent and still since Lily kissed the back of her hand, nodded. "This way."

They led her to the southern boundary, which wasn't too far off from the grove, and Aurora was very close to baring her teeth when Lily's gaze fell upon Maleficent again. "Have you decided whether I am granted passage or not, Lady Protector?"

Maleficent and Aurora exchanged looks, and in that short moment she saw a form of recognition twinkle in her multicolored irises. "Yes." The faery brushed her finger against the back of Aurora's hand. "I'm sorry, but you will have to continue to your grandmother's house on the main road. I cannot allow you passage through the Moors."

The disappointment in Lily's eyes registered as sweet victory to Aurora.

"Ah, well." The dark-haired girl dipped her head respectfully to the Guardian, and gave a curt bow to the Queen. When their eyes met as she rose, Aurora couldn't help but smirk. "Thank you, Queen Aurora, for your forgiveness."

_Yeah, whatever. _"You're welcome," she replied as quickly and as tersely as Lily's bow.

When they watched until they could no longer see the bright red cloak, Maleficent burst into a fit of chuckles. "Oh, my little Beastie, jealousy is rather adorable on you."

The Queen wrapped her arms around the faery's neck and pouted playfully. "It wasn't fun. I wanted to give her a royal yelling-at every time she looked at you."

Another full chuckle slid from her throat. "And you very well could've. You're the Queen, and you have the right to do whatever you desire…correct?"

Aurora planted a kiss on the long, porcelain column of skin, and nibbled at it with her teeth. "Absolutely." She smiled impishly as her mouth moved lower. "I think I'll exercise that later on tonight."


	4. Unidentified Fae

**Rated G.**

* * *

"We're going to remove your coat now," Aurora told Maleficent softly. "Just to take a look at your body to make sure you're not hurt." The fae flinched, but otherwise showed no indication of direct protest. Clipboard and pen at the ready, Lauren nodded.

The gown slipped off, revealing an expanse of unblemished skin. "No tattoos, no markings," Lauren mused to herself, "Just like Bo." She stood for a moment or two, contemplating multiple things in her mind. "Your horns are fascinating. I've never seen anything quite like them. There are only a few species of fae that sport small horns, but you boast unusually large ones."

Maleficent, a curiously quiet fae, only gazed at Doctor Lewis with reflected objectivity.

Maintaining her steady, relaxed, observant walk, Lauren circled around to Maleficent's back.

Her steps slowed. Aurora found that highly unusual, considering that Doctor Lewis retained consistency with everything that she did. Slowed walking meant surprise, or distraction—fixation of her multiple trains of thought upon one, single subject.

"Aurora."

Her tone was balanced, but there was the slightest edge to it—which was more than usual. Aurora walked over calmly, but in her mind, anxious anticipation of what could've caught Lauren off-guard began to build. Maleficent's eyes followed her, expression in them unreadable.

Not many things surprised Doctor Lewis, if that says anything.

Aurora stood next to Lauren and clutched her own clipboard. On Maleficent's back, just along the upper portion, near where the teres major muscles would be, two disfigured, feathery stumps sat lodged, or appeared to be lodged, uncomfortably near the fae's shoulders. Her upper back was a bit broader to accommodate them, as if she was born with them, but they didn't look to be of any use. They were unevenly flat on top, where feathers attempted to re-grow through the ugly, scarring tissue.

"Natural growths," Doctor Lewis observed. "And judging by their placement, and the size of the upper back, and the obvious strength of the latissimus dorsi and the trapezius, which suggests well-constructed rhomboid major and rhomboid minor, they were once full-functioning appendages. And they were used quite often. The visually evident layers of scarred tissue offer the notion that they were damaged long ago."

Aurora, used to Lauren's rambling doctor-talk, scribbled on her clipboard. "My god," she breathed after she was done, her eyes falling back on the stumps and her brow creasing. "What happened?"

Maleficent, who had hardly spoken since she had been found, answered the doctor with a neutrally distant tone. "I had wings, once." Her back straightened, and the stubs unwillingly moved with her muscles. It appeared to be excruciatingly painful, but Maleficent showed no signs of being affected by it. "They were stolen from me."

* * *

**A/N: **This was more of a random late-night drabble than an actual fluff prompt, but I thought it would be worthy of posting in the collection. Unfortunately, until I get Netflix (which won't be for a long time) and thoroughly watch all of Lost Girl, I won't be continuing this little tidbit. I've only seen parts of the first and second seasons, and I don't think I know the plot and characters enough to actually write a full-blown Lost Girl/Maleficent crossover. **However, if you would like to continue this, let me know, because I wanna read it! :D**


	5. Unidentified Fae (Bonus)

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

Aurora was thinking. And nervous.

_Tap-tap-taptap—_

"Must you insist on that incessant noise?"

—_tap_—

The pencil Aurora was holding halted its irregular beat against the edge of her clipboard as her eyes flicked up, startled and a bit surprised, at the fae on the opposite side of the room.

Her heart, however, picked up the pencil's irregular rhythm trembled unevenly inside of her chest.

Hearing Maleficent's voice was an extraordinarily rare opportunity—it was one of those things that occurred so infrequently that when it did happen, it seemed unreal, alien—like a dream, almost; when you wake up after, you feel as though it was so _tangible _when experienced in your mind but so very _intangible _once your eyes open.

Maleficent's voice was the bluest of all moons. It was so seldom, sometimes Aurora doubted it even existed.

And even though Maleficent's tone was clipped, slightly annoyed, and rather short, Aurora was completely caught off-guard. Her senses became hyperactive. Her heart quavered anxiously behind her ribcage. Her muscles locked up and froze—all except for her eyelids. She blinked once, and as she stared at the fae in shock, she only felt it returned to her with equal intensity.

When she could no longer bear the knife-like gaze Maleficent threw at her, her muscles carefully calculated their movements as she took a slow, deep breath. "I'm sorry," Aurora murmured, turning her eyes sheepishly down to her papers, "it's a bad habit."

No reply. Maleficent's words and the voice accompanied by them dissipated into the air like a fading dream, like a waning blue moon. Iridescent irises slowly journeyed away from Aurora and back to the bare, white wall, upon which they studied the empty, colorless surface with no interest.

Today marked the unidentified fae's sixth month here. Sixth months and barely fifty words spoken, Aurora was sure. Sixth months and near inconclusive results on Maleficent's origin, species, affiliation…nothing. She had sat through the routine tests unwavering, silent—a stumpback statue. Expressionless. Emotionless.

Perfectly stoic. Hopefully, she would retain her stone-like behavior while Aurora attempted to execute the special request Dr. Lewis asked of her.

_/_ _"I need you to map out her back," Lauren explained briefly. "Details. Muscle locations. Down to the very tiniest of features."_

_ Aurora only gave the doctor a confused look._

_ "Draw it," she elaborated. "I don't have any artistic skills, and a graphite diagram is useful in many ways. It allows you to pick up more observations as you sketch—with any luck, we may be able to get a step closer to helping Maleficent out."_

_ Aurora nodded. They had tried taking a picture before, but for some reason Maleficent grew uncomfortable when the camera got too close—another strange occurrence that the fae would not explain. "Anything else?"_

_ Lauren's lips tightened into a thin line. "This might be a bit difficult, but it would be immensely helpful if I could get a few small samples of Maleficent's appendage tissue." There was a pause, and then she added softly, "You know, she seems to trust you more than me."_

_ "I appreciate that, Dr. Lewis," Aurora sighed, "but how can you tell? She treats us all the same. Neutral demeanor, no sign of any emotional change. Monosyllable answers when required, and, if we're fortunate, disyllable."_

_ A short laugh cut through the air. "The disyllable and even trisyllable answers are always directed at you." /_

The clip on her board snapped into place. "Okay, Maleficent," Aurora began, trying to make her voice sound as gentle and calm as possible. Out of the very few things they learned about this particular fae, it was that she was very sensitive to physical closeness, direct contact, and discussion of her stumps.

All three would be required today. Aurora sighed.

Maleficent only turned her head slightly to Aurora at the mention of her name and waited patiently, the previous irritation having seemingly vanished from the atmosphere around her. Aurora drew another quiet (and just barely shaky) breath. Why couldn't have Dr. Lewis accompanied her today? Why did _she _have to do this _alone_? Providing assistance to Lauren was easy. _Comfortable. _

And as she dared to make eye contact with unblinking iridescent irises once more, Aurora realized that sometimes you had to be drawn out of your comfort zone to learn something new.

How was she even supposed to explain these next procedures to Maleficent without her becoming tense? She pretended to scribble down some numbers as she bought time to choose her words with care. Blue eyes cautiously lifted to observe the fae again.

Maleficent's stone-like expression had not changed, nor had it left Aurora's figure.

"I've been asked to do a few things for Dr. Lewis today to aid her with discovering more of what kind of fae you are," Aurora began with a deep breath. "Nothing is going to cause you any harm, I assure you."

The flash that darted across Maleficent's eyes was so fast it was nearly imperceptible, but Aurora was faster. She saw it. She caught it. She analyzed it.

The flash carried a short, blunt message. It said: _That is what they told me the last time._

An anxious shiver rolled down her spine.

"Anyway," she continued quietly, staying in place with her clipboard as Maleficent studied her with an unreadable expression, "the first of these few things is for me to compose a detailed sketch of your back."

Maleficent's gaze hardened—not directed at her, perhaps, but somewhere distant, in her mind; Aurora noticed this whilst biting her lip and fought the urge to tap her pencil on her board. "Is this alright?" A short pause, then: "With me drawing your back, I mean. Are you comfortable with that?"

There was a change; however small, it was still a change—the twitch of a brow and the slightest softening of Maleficent's rigid, angled features brought life to the stone statue in which she resembled. The emotion of confusion flickered across her face for the first time. The corner of a set of full, crimson lips trembled in micro-increments.

Then, it clicked. _She has never been asked for consent._

As this simple yet massive revelation was dawning on Aurora, the sound of fabric crumpling on top of itself invaded her thoughts. Maleficent slowly shrugged off her gown in a wordless reply. The cloth caught on one of the stumps.

Aurora's fingers twitched in an instinctive response to go and help take off the rest of the robe, but her newly discovered revelation told her otherwise, and she waited patiently as the fae reached behind her back and knocked the rest of the garment off.

The stare of her iridescent irises was a bit less blank than the wall they were now reoccupied with.

The assistant followed in suit with the silence, noiselessly moving behind Maleficent, pulling up a chair, sitting down, and placing a clean sheet of drawing paper on her clipboard. Quickly sketching two axes for a rough scale, she carefully began to plot out the fae's prominently muscled back, starting with the neck and shoulders. As expected, Maleficent remained perfectly still, almost unnervingly so. Aurora remained engrossed in her sketching.

And engrossed in the fae's back.

It was fascinating how one being could contain so much sheer _power _coiled in one side of her body. These wings she used to have must've been great, so great that she could _fly _with them, because how else would she have exercised them to become this strong? Her muscles were highly admirable, especially for human standards. She resisted the desire to touch them.

Maleficent, however, was not stocky. She was not bulky and cumbersome. All of this _power _was so elegantly encased into a strikingly beautiful figure (topped with a unusually pleasant set of horns, to boot) that Maleficent seemed completely unaware of.

Maleficent was the most beautiful fae—no, the most beautiful person, fae _or _human, that Aurora had ever seen. That was no exaggeration. That was no annoying cliché way of saying that she was pretty—no, Maleficent was absolutely _stunning, _and the only thing she ever expressed was neutrality.

Aurora's heart ached for this fae, this poor, poor fae that went through unspeakable pain and came out hardened as an iron fortress.

Five syllables: "How long will this take?"

A stray line streaked the paper as Aurora jumped at the alien sound of Maleficent's voice. She was so startled that, at first, she didn't respond for a few seconds; she only sat there trying to process what Maleficent had just said, and tried to memorize the sound of _Maleficent _and _words_, _together. _Finally, she managed, "Perhaps another fifteen or twenty minutes…" In reality, it would be a lot easier if she could feel natural indents on her back—that would save about ten minutes, considering the lighting in the room didn't offer fantastic opportunities for shadowing.

It didn't hurt to ask, right?

"Maleficent…?"

The fae did not turn her head, but an ear twitched in recognition.

A ball of saliva struggled to pass through her esophagus. "Do you mind if…well, I mean, it would save time if I could feel some of the natural valleys on your back, you know, for depth perception, because the lighting…it doesn't bode well for shadows, and…" Damnit, why was she being so timid about this? She took a deep breath. "I won't if you don't want me to. I don't mind doing it the longer way, I just…I thought you might want to get this over with faster, but I don't know how you feel about…"

Once again, silence was the reply. Aurora studied Maleficent carefully for the smallest sign of nonverbal response, but there came none. She worried her lip habitually, but she would not act until she had a clear answer.

The next sentence that passed Maleficent's lips was not the one Aurora was expecting. "You may," she murmured, words ghosting through the air like invisible spirits, "but do not touch the remains of my wings."

Aurora blinked. "Okay." It came out as a whisper. Suddenly this felt so much more confidential, like this incident must be kept secret, like this incident could under no circumstances be heard by anyone.

_You know, she seems to trust you more than me._

Slowly, as if she was cautious of spooking a wild creature, Aurora raised her small hand and gently pressed two splayed fingers on either sides of Maleficent's upper spinal column.

If Aurora wanted to follow the shiver that rolled down Maleficent's spine, she could've.

Her keen ears heard the quietest stifled gasp, and she swallowed down her own excited nervousness as she pressed a bit harder and moved down—up—down—up. It was only to get an idea of the depth of each area, but after she noticed Maleficent's shoulders begin to heave upwards as she took larger breaths, she withdrew her hand in fear that she was beginning to distress the fae.

She regretted it immediately. That small form of contact left her wanting to touch Maleficent again, most likely, Aurora formulated, because Maleficent was so closed off and distant all the time that something like this drove a curiosity for Aurora to explore. This felt like a new door being opened, even though it was just mapping out the physical detail, because it was something Aurora hadn't been able to know about Maleficent before.

And this little curiosity drove Aurora to want to know more than just what Maleficent's back looked like. She wanted to know _why _and _how _it got that way.

At this rate, though, Aurora may never know.

"I'm going to press down again." She wanted to make sure Maleficent wouldn't be startled or uncomfortable during this entire process—this was already tough for her, Aurora knew. "This time, towards the insides of your shoulders, around your stumps, and down the lower back. Is that okay?"

A pause, then the soft nod of a horned head permitted her to continue.

True to her word, Aurora did not touch the bases of the appendages and followed the path she said she would. Mentally noting every dip and swell of muscle along the way, she scribbled a few things down on the side of her paper and roughly sketched them out first, and then filled in the details after.

A new feature appeared on Maleficent's back that wasn't there previously:

Gooseflesh.

Gooseflesh in the wake of her fingers' paths.

Her brow pinched together with concern. "Are you cold?"

The horned head shook indicating the negative. Stray chestnut strands swayed over the surface of her shoulders. Without thinking, Aurora's fingers found them and swept them inward; unfortunately, she realized what she was doing just as Maleficent flinched away from the sudden touch.

Aurora's fingers jerked away. "I'm sorry, I—"

"No," Maleficent interrupted. Her voice was unsteady, something Aurora had never heard before. "It's fine."

Three syllables. Aurora suppressed a sigh. "It's not. I didn't warn you; I wasn't thinking. That was unwelcome for you. I didn't mean it…I'm—"

"One apology is enough." Eight syllables: some of the most she'd heard all these months. "I understand."

Aurora's tongue darted out over her dry lips and nodded, even though Maleficent couldn't see it. Golden tresses curtained her face as she pushed herself to finish the sketch. The only sound in the room after that was the scratching of pencil on paper.

When she was finally finished, Aurora rose from her seat and cleared her throat. "I'm done with the drawing now." Golden iridescent irises trained themselves onto her as she walked past, but something else other than the fae's gaze caught her attention.

No, it was the fae's hand that caught her instead.

Nearly leaping out of her skin at the abrupt touch, the connecting touch burned around her wrist even as Maleficent's fingers loosened around it. "I want to see it," she said quietly, eyes never leaving Aurora's blue ones.

The fae's stare burned through her as powerfully as her touch did. "Here." The word cracked on Aurora's vocal cords, and the paper shook slightly as she handed it to Maleficent.

The fae took the sketch in both hands and studied it carefully, multicolored orbs flicking down—up—down—up, until they settled on the upper back. Slender fingertips brushed over the darkened stumps on the paper (when Aurora peered closely, she saw that her full, red lower lip quaked almost unnoticeably).

The whisper that stumbled over these quavering lips was nearly inaudible. "So that's what they look like now."

The ache in her heart twisted and writhed. Aurora nodded silently. This was the most Maleficent had spoken, _ever_, and _at once. _In fear that she would ruin this rare opportunity of voluntary openness, she bit her tongue and listened.

Willowy fingers continued to trace around and along the area of the stumps. "They were so big that they dragged behind me as I walked. And they've been reduced to…" Blue eyes watched as the fae tried to prevent her face from contorting with sorrow (and in that moment, Aurora wished she was not as good of an artist. Perhaps she could have prevented this resurfacing grief). "…to this."

"We're trying to fix that, actually…"

Maleficent's eyes shot up from the paper; her gaze just about sliced Aurora in half. "How?"

"Well…" This was going to be difficult. "For Dr. Lewis to further understand the components of your DNA, she needs cells from the most unique part of you, which is the remnants of your wings." When Maleficent visibly stiffened at the thought of this, Aurora rushed, "Not a lot. Just a tiny scraping; you won't even feel it. We put them in a petri dish and grow them to study the cultures on their own—"

"_No._"

Aurora bit her lip hard. Maleficent's glare was even harder. "I will not let you touch them."

"_Maleficent_." It was quiet, gentle, pleading.

"_Aurora_." It was harsh, stubborn, scared.

"Maleficent," Aurora tried again, involuntarily placing her hand on the fae's. "Don't be afraid."

The fae did not flinch from Aurora's touch; instead, she casted her gaze back to the drawn out stumps. "I am not afraid," was the steely reply. It sounded, however, like Maleficent was trying to convince herself more than she was trying to convince Aurora.

Harsh, stubborn, _scared_.

"Then _please_," Aurora whispered, leaning in closer, "let me do this. I promise I will not hurt you. And if you feel like I have," her tongue passed over her lips again, but she did not break eye contact, "then I will make sure I will never speak to you or see you again, if you see me as a source of harm."

A long pause. Aurora searched Maleficent's eyes desperately for something, _any_ sort of signal that it was okay—but she couldn't get past the clouded neutrality, the haze of stoic composure.

Blue eyes caught the roll of Maleficent's throat as the fae swallowed and closed her eyes. When she opened them, the multicolored golden irises were surprisingly bare with raw sincerity, a fragility. "There is a reason why I trust you the most," she began. Her words shook with vulnerability. "The doctor—Dr. Lewis—she is too analytical, too excitable. She forgets to ask of things sometimes. Her overwhelming amount of intelligence intimidates me, to a degree." She took a deep breath. "The succubus—Bo—too forward. Too bold. Her questions are sometimes too probing and direct. They are amiable, but you…" this is when her eyes dropped embarrassedly to their hands, which were still overlapped on top of each other. "…You know limits. You are careful and gentle. I have never truly felt in danger by you, Aurora."

Thoughts were already picking up into a whirlwind by the time Maleficent's eyes reconnected with hers, glassy with tears threatening to spill over from decades of suppressed anger and grief. Her heart trembled with overwhelming emotion. Out of all the things Aurora expected today, she didn't expect such a confession, especially one that struck her with such honesty. How was she supposed to respond to that? Say _'thank you' _and move on in the laboratory? Her jaw opened and closed as words of gratitude tried to form, but to no avail. The fae only studied her as she searched for _something _to convey how she felt.

And then it came to her like a blazing sun, but she couldn't do it.

She looked at Maleficent as her heart galloped irregularly in her chest. Not without consent.

"May I kiss you?"

For the first time, Aurora witnessed Maleficent truly smile, even though it was the faintest of all smiles, and it was beautiful.

* * *

**A/N: **Due to popular demand, I made a (final!) continuation of _Unidentified Fae_. Yay! It totally ended up being like 2k words longer than I intended, but hey, more malora for the world, amirite? :D Hope you guys enjoyed it! Sorry if I haven't updated _Of Thieves and Thrones _or _1942 _lately; I'm in school now and I have almost zero time to write...so I figured posting this would hold you guys over. Hehe! :)


	6. Inkwork

**Rated T. Dedicated to the lovely cocomingo so she has something to read after her surgery, and also because she's just a beautiful person in general.  
**

**You go, Coco.**

* * *

Diaval sighed as he and Maleficent watched Aurora hunching over a pile of papers. She had been like this for three _hours _now—unusually silent except for the occasional, drawn-out hum.

"What do you suppose she's doing?" he whispered. "You know, to be _that _focused on parchment covered in dots? She takes about ten minutes to figure out where to place the next one."

Maleficent only raised her eyebrows and shrugged.

"But aren't you at least a _bit _worried?" Diaval's arms fluttered and shook a little; if he was a bird, he would be ruffling his wings. "She hasn't even gone to play with the wallerbogs this afternoon."

Or last afternoon, for that matter. Or the afternoon before that. Or before that. Aurora had brought these papers to the Moors a few weeks ago, and ever since then had become increasingly engrossed in them. At the end of each day, Aurora always ended up finishing the ink in her wells, and Diaval reluctantly was sent to fetch more.

_This had better be earning me a salary of berries_, Diaval thought, _if I must serve as a pack mule to get _ink.

"It must be of great import to her," was all Maleficent said, but Diaval could hear the faintest trace of jealousy in the faery's voice. Maleficent? Jealous of a collection of _parchments_ covered in lines and dots?

He snorted. Diaval expected nothing else.

That earned him a glare, however. "What was _that_ for?"

He made sure to put some distance between himself and Maleficent before answering. "It is evident that these papers are absorbing all of Aurora's time."

Golden-green eyes narrowed with suspicion. "And?"

Diaval frowned and shrugged. "It just seems to me like _certain_ faeries aren't getting the _attention_ that they used to."

"Into a dog."

* * *

Maleficent awoke to the shuffling of papers.

Aurora was snuggled up against her, under the warm embrace of a wing in the rowan tree—but now those wretched _papers _had joined in. Spirits, when was Aurora _not _looking at them?

It was early dawn—Maleficent could tell by the high-pitched chirps of the air wyrms, but had Aurora really woken up this early to study those things? Without moving, Maleficent slowly opened one eye just enough so she could see over Aurora's head.

Diaval was right. All the papers had on them were sets of straight lines accompanied by dots with more lines, and other odd symbols. What was this? A new language? A code, of some sort?

Was it from the human castle? Were they secret messages? Why on earth would they choose to communicate in _dots_?

"Beastie, if you stare at those parchments for any longer I'm quite certain you'll set them aflame."

Jumping at the sudden sound, Aurora quickly bent the papers inward against her chest. "I—" she cleared her voice and steadied it a bit, "I thought you were asleep."

"I _was_," the faery muttered, "until you began to make a ruckus."

Maleficent didn't have to look at Aurora's face to know she was blushing. "I thought I was being quiet," the Queen murmured.

"That's something we'll have to work on," Maleficent considered, and a wicked grin crept upon her lips, "in more than one area."

There was a small moment of silence before Aurora realized what Maleficent implied—a gasp followed, and Maleficent couldn't help but chuckle.

"I am not _that _loud!" Aurora protested, but she too was smiling.

"Beastie, Diaval says he can hear you all the way on the southern border. If you were any louder, your human Council would hear, and then you would have to take up the difficult task of explaining what _exactly_ it is you do on your visits here."

"I think you meant _who._"

They both burst into a fit of giggles, and if you ask the water sprites, they will tell you that the laughter of the Queen and the Protector is the most wonderful sound to awaken to.

When the laughter finally subsided into low chuckles, Maleficent tapped her fingers on the papers. "So, when will you decide to tell me what these are?"

Aurora clutched them closer to her chest. "When they're all finished."

"And when will that be?"

"You're rather demanding, aren't you?"

"Beastie, if you didn't realize that until just now, you're in for quite a bit of trouble."

* * *

_Caw! Caw!_

Maleficent rolled her eyes and turned to find Diaval flapping above her. She was about to scold him for bothering her on her afternoon walk, but the note attached to his foot caught her attention.

Notes from the human kingdom only meant one thing: Aurora.

She quickly untied the letter from Diaval and broke the royal seal (it was a great tree with many reaching roots), opened it, and frowned at its contents.

_ You are cordially invited by her Majesty the Queen_

_To a Private Ball hosted at_

_Midnight on the Fifteenth of September_

Maleficent didn't realize Diaval was cawing until he pecked her ear. She scowled and flicked her wrist, and he stumbled on the ground clumsily.

"Really wish you'd stop doing that," he muttered.

She ignored him. "Aurora knows I am hesitant about interacting with human nobility. Why would she invite me to a small ball like this, of all things?"

"I don't know," Diaval said, and leaned over Maleficent to see the letter. "Hey, what's that say at the bottom?"

The faery peered at the end of the letter. In Aurora's script, it read:

_There won't be a lot of people. Please come._

In even tinier script, below that:

_Wear something black._

Maleficent furrowed her brow. "Black?"

"Black? For what?"

Sometimes the faery forgot that Diaval couldn't read. She pursed her lips in frustration at the letter. "Aurora says there will be only a few people, and that I need to wear something black."

"Isn't that the color of mourning or something, for humans?"

Maleficent blinked. It was, wasn't it? What could Aurora be mourning? Was that why she had been so absorbed and so quiet?

Could she be mourning her father?

No, that wasn't possible. She knew that Aurora had little emotional connection to her father, and if she _was _mourning him, she wouldn't be so cruel as to invite Maleficent to an event commemorating him.

She frowned. "I'll go, for her."

* * *

_Fourteenth of September, near midnight_

Diaval bit the inside of his lip. "Are you _sure_ you don't want me to go with you?"

"Yes, birdbrain," Maleficent snapped, "besides, you weren't on the invitation."

He put his hands up and turned around. "Alright, alright! But when you come back _moping _with your wings hanging low, I'd better hear, _'You were right, Diaval. You should've come with me, Diaval. I was wrong, Diaval—_"

—_Caw! Caw! Caw!_

Maleficent groaned. She wasn't sure if Diaval's human voice or his raven _screeching_ was more obnoxious. Next time, she reminded herself, she must turn him into something mute.

She rolled her eyes again as Diaval landed on her shoulder; he cocked his head to the side, as if considering something, and then carefully adjusted the neckline of her robe with his beak—that is, until Maleficent swatted him away.

Her reflection gazed back at her appraisingly. The Ahr'a Cliffs, mountains of rock that were covered by sheets of smooth, reflective minerals, served as a giant natural mirror for her tonight. She checked that her cuffs, trimmed in the color of silver, were evenly rolled back—that her collar, trimmed in the same color, was equally adjusted, and that the black body of the robe, dark as the shadows in the deepest parts of the Moors, was void of any vegetative debris.

She was ready, but she was also dreading this.

_For Aurora._

A great wind whistled through the blades of grass, and a horned silhouette formed against the full moon.

* * *

When Maleficent arrived at the castle, she almost turned on her heel and left.

It wasn't because of the presence of people—it was because of the strange _absence _of people. The only ones visible were two guards standing at their posts on the entrance, but other than that there was _no one._

She landed gracefully, folded her wings warily against her back, and walked forward slowly, cautiously. No noble coaches lined the main road to the castle. No horses were tied to nearby trees. No greeters, no directors.

No one. The castle loomed over her like a great, stone dragon.

"L-lady Protector?"

Her head whipped towards the trembling voice, and her ears found the uneasy face of one of the guards to match it. Magic pulsed at the tips of her fingers, ready to strike.

"Just inside, m-my Lady." He gripped his spear (Maleficent noticed it was not iron) nervously as he eyed her horns. "There is a boy that will guide you to the correct ballroom."

She only granted him a terse nod, and he quickly stepped back to his position.

* * *

At least the guard hadn't lied. There was a young boy, perhaps no more than fifteen, just inside that chattered nervously as he led her through narrow, winding corridors. She exhaled a sigh through her nose and tightened her wings closer to her body, making quite sure that not a feather touched the stone walls.

The memories of fighting and iron—the memories, years old—still persisted in her thoughts, and the magic never ceased its throbbing in her fingertips. It begged to be released, to defend her from the spears and the swords and the axes. A muscle twitched in her neck. This could be a trap. Anything could be a trap.

She never trusted anything that came from here, and her ears jerked towards every creak and echo she heard.

"Here w-we are," the boy stammered as he avoided her burning gaze, "h-her Majesty the Queen will be with you shortly."

Two more guards, one on each side of the grand double-doors that stood in front of her, grabbed each handle and pulled them apart. Their hinges groaned against the weight, and, to Maleficent's surprise, moonlight trickled out from the gap.

She stepped inside, and the finality of it all was punctuated by the slam of the doors coming together. The guards did not follow.

The room itself was the complete opposite of the entire castle.

On the other side of the room was a massive window—it started low to the ground and reached to the top of the vaulted ceilings—allowing for the moonlight to not seep but _pour_ onto the stone floor. Up near the ceiling on her left and right were thinner, rectangular windows that ran horizontally from wall to wall, and just under those windows were twin hanging balconies, lined with stone railings carved into patterns of branches.

Maleficent was so in awe that she didn't notice the groups of people shifting in their chairs against the wall.

Or the double doors opening on the other side of the room.

Or the figure, crowned in nothing but her golden hair, that emerged from those double doors, hands clasped behind her back.

"I'm happy to see that you decided to come, Godmother," the figure said quietly.

Aurora's voice was one of those things that immediately got her attention, no matter how softly she spoke.

If anyone had doubt that Maleficent wasn't completely paying attention, it was erased when Maleficent saw her Majesty the Queen. Bathed in the moonlight that cascaded through the windows, her entire form radiated an ethereal glow that made her seem supernatural—like an angel.

Except angels do not wear black.

The dress Aurora wore was not a traditional one, even Maleficent could tell; it was simple and thin, without all those unnecessary layers—fit for easy movement, but it was long, and pooled like spilled ink on the dark stone. It did not pinch tightly around her waist; there was no corset, but instead flowed comfortably from her shoulders down—and above her shoulders, a wide scoop displayed the soft skin that Maleficent had kissed a thousand times before.

The faery blinked and inhaled deeply. Never before had she felt so light-headed, never before had she felt like she was living in a dream.

(And now Maleficent realized why they were wearing black; it wasn't because they were mourning anything, it was simply because Aurora wanted her to, because it was a color that didn't always mean _evil._)

Spirits, she hoped this wasn't a dream, and if it was…curses on the one who awoke her from it.

She suddenly felt warmth in her hands, and looked down to see Aurora clasping them. "I am also happy to see you are unbothered by the orchestra," the Queen murmured.

Orchestra? Maleficent's brow knitted as she glanced to her left and right—_oh,_ the _orchestra. _A small group of men on either side of them, equipped with various instruments, casted their gazes down as the faery's cut through them. She turned back to Aurora and reluctantly admitted, "I didn't notice them before."

A small smile grew on Aurora's lips as she leaned in closer to Maleficent and whispered, "I wonder what had you so distracted?"

Two great wings cocooned them, and a slender finger traced a lazy path down Aurora's bare shoulder. "Her Majesty the Queen looks rather flattering this evening. She better watch out for hungry suitors."

"Then it must be a miracle there are no suitors here, except for one."

Finally, it clicked. Maleficent's finger halted its slow descent, and her iridescent irises locked with Aurora's blue ones. "You didn't invite anyone else but me." When she saw Aurora's smile grow larger, the faery kissed her nose. "Clever beastie."

The Queen's eyes glistened with something pure and sincere. "It was the only way I knew you would be completely comfortable…"

"With?"

"Not just with being here, but with…" Aurora bit her lip hesitantly, and then murmured, "dancing."

Maleficent pulled away slightly and arched an eyebrow in suspicion. "We could easily dance in the Moors, Beastie."

Aurora's gaze fell to the floor. "But I couldn't bring an orchestra to the Moors."

"Why would we need an orchestra?" Maleficent grasped Aurora's chin gently as she tilted her head back up. "We can dance without music."

Aurora gave no reply, but instead raised her hand above her head—high enough that it could be seen from outside the feathery barrier, and made a motion with it.

A lone cellist drew his bow across the strings, beckoning Maleficent to pull her wings back with its song.

It was familiar—achingly familiar. The notes were drawn and slow, making the listener want to walk with them, to get to know them, without rushing, without a quick pace or set tempo. They flowed, waltzing through the air naturally—not forcibly like other human songs she had heard before.

It was when two more cellos joined, the notes low like whispers, that Maleficent looked at Aurora with wide eyes.

_I know you_

_ I walked with you once upon a dream_

It was the lullaby that Maleficent sung to Aurora once, years and years ago. A violent storm had been raging for hours at night, and, terrified of the loud claps of thunder and blinding strikes of lightning, Aurora had clung to Maleficent's waist, tears streaming down her cheeks. And it was that one time Maleficent decided to sing Aurora to sleep.

The fact Aurora _remembered_ this song, the fact that she knew the notes after all these years—

"I composed it for you," the Queen said softly, drawing Maleficent from her memories. "I brought it—the composition—to the Moors, because I had no time to here."

So _that's _what those papers were.

But Maleficent wasn't about to tease Aurora about the papers, mainly because she was on the verge of tears (she managed to keep it in, to her relief), and instead placed a hand carefully on Aurora's waist.

They slowly began to dance across the room, their steps gradual and light, led by the notes of the cellos that stretched through the air. There was no formal, rigid steps they were forced to follow, there was no particular kind of dance they tried to conform to; they simply stepped _with _each other, with eyes closed, sharing the same breath.

_I know you_

_ That look in your eyes is so_

_ Familiar-a-gleam…_

_ And I know it's true_

_ That visions are seldom all they seem_

_ But if I know you_

_ I know what you'll do…_

Now, the higher-pitched violas joined in, transitioning the pace to something a bit faster, but not a rushed kind—like a fluttering heart—

_You'll love me at once_

_ The way you did once_

_ Upon a dream…_

Now they were gliding weightlessly across the floor, with Maleficent's wings creating drafts as they opened and closed freely, and Aurora's dress, black as the ink she composed the piece with, wrote their story as it trailed behind her.

_I know you_

_ I walked with you once upon a dream_

_ I know you_

_ That gleam in your eyes is so_

_ Familiar-a-gleam,_

_ And I know it's true_

_ That visions are seldom all they seem_

_ But if I know you_

_ I know what you'll do…_

Neither of them noticed the choir enter from both balconies, but the divine sound of their voices filling the air that the strings could not made Maleficent begin to think that this _was _a dream—

—but Aurora's small gasp as she turned on her heel and lifted them both in the air reminded her that this was _real_.

"_Maleficent_," came the Queen's surprised whisper, and she only laughed quietly in response as they twirled in circles, pretending that the air beneath them was the floor.

When Maleficent opened her eyes, the moon was full behind Aurora's head, acting as a heavenly halo as its light spilled over her shoulders.

Never had Maleficent seen Aurora so beautiful.

_You'll love me at once_

_ The way you did once_

_ Upon a dream…_

Her wings, shining with a silver sheen, wrapped around them as they landed—and the cellos, just as they had entered one by one, faded out one by one until the lone cellist that had started it all drew out his last note.

And as the cellist drew out his last note, his note drew out Maleficent's first tear.

Their kiss, witnessed by none but themselves, was salty—but it tasted like the sweetest of all dreams.

* * *

**A/N: **Hello beasties! Sorry I haven't posted in a while. School is complicated and life is complicated right now, but I managed to write a one shot that was waaaaaay longer than I intended it to be! XD I know you guys want the next chapters of 1942 and Of Thieves and Thrones. They're coming, I promise, it's just a slow process for reasons (AP calculus being one of them)...so I figured this'll hold you over for now :)

Also, to those who have given me prompts: I have not forgotten about you! Those one-shots are also on their way. Remember that reviews are like my life support (right now more than ever), and I know you guys are very good review-leavers, so keep up the good work, hehe!

One more final note: To that guest that says "I love it" on every single chapter on every single one of my works: I love _you_, anonymous guest!


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